


Sherlock's Curious Fascination

by constanthearts



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constanthearts/pseuds/constanthearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is working on a case based on a young girl who seduced her much older lover. This intrigues him and re-sparks his interest he has in the older man named Gregory Lestrade. While it is research for the case he also sees it as a perfect opportunity (and possibly uses it as an excuse). Warnings for explicit sex and daddy!kink. </p><p>Partly beta'd by Sammy, all mistakes are mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Curious Fascination

Gregory Lestrade’s eyes never left the crime scene. He was busy but also tired and worn out and his eyes were red from the cigarette smoke that had wafted into them. He was with the detective at the time, or rather Sherlock Holmes (whom he considered a great friend), and while he had encouraged him _not_ to smoke Sherlock never listened. It was useless chastising but chastising he offered because he cared about the health of Sherlock. He either didn’t eat, or sleep, or even use the loo on crime scenes because he was so busy trying to solve this case for him. Greg refused to feel guilty though; the man had offered to help him and even refused to accept a pay cheque for it. He was odd but funny sometimes and a genius and Greg knew the police force would not be the same without him for it.

Today was a particularly gruesome day with heavy, annoying fog that surrounded the already down in the dumps crime scene and one that caused condensation to form on those who wore reading glasses. These was the type of days Lestrade actually liked, though; he enjoyed feeling the fresh, cool air of it all in comparison to the usual steamy air created by cars and lorries that drove past.

“Lestrade. I need you to come back to my flat tonight,” Sherlock piped up as he came to stand next to the man. Greg had been standing with his shoulders slumped and his fingers to his mouth like he was bored apparently. “John’s going out on a date so I’m sure we’ll have peace and quiet. I did offer to come along so we could read them together but he wasn’t too keen,” Sherlock continued even though he knew what the reason was for that. He always knew, he just enjoyed teasing John in his own little mean way. Lestrade scoffed at the remark even though he was a little surprised Sherlock was asking him to come over. Why couldn’t Sherlock bring the evidence to the crime scene as per requested?

“I don’t blame him,” he said with a small laugh, “but yes. I’ll come.”

\--

It was evening before Lestrade arrived at the flat. Sherlock had told him to come by after eight – and after _only_ eight – because John would have left half an hour before. He idly wondered why the detective was so insistent about it but he decided he didn’t really care. It was raining somewhat heavily now and the water covered his jacket and the tips of his hair and thus dampening all the way through his short strands but he carried on. He pulled his hood over his head in a vain attempt to stay dry as he rang the doorbell outside 221B and the rain thundered against the material of his waterproof and into his ears. After maybe three minutes of ringing the doorbell twice Mrs. Hudson greeted him. He cast a smile. He figured Sherlock must have been too busy – or lazy - to get the door himself.

 “Sherlock?” Lestrade called when he stepped into the flat after Mrs. Hudson had instructed to do so. There wasn’t an answer and he sighed. Since he was soaking wet he pulled off his waterproof and hung it over one of their kitchen chairs. He didn’t know whether to take his shoes off or not so he waited as the water continued to seep into his socks and it made his feet feel uncomfortable. He shook his head. “Bloody –“

“Ah, Lestrade,” Sherlock finally said as he wandered through to the kitchen. Lestrade looked up from the floor to say something since he was relieved Sherlock had finally showed his face. He didn’t have to feel awkward about standing alone in his kitchen anymore until he noticed what he was wearing. Or rather, what he wasn’t wearing (it was either one of the two).

“Sherlock,” he asked, lifting a finger from the indent of his arm where they were both folded to point at him. “Did you just wake up? Hello by the way.”

“No, I just couldn’t be bothered getting dressed, now onwards with the case,” Sherlock announced as he made a move through to the study. It was like he expected Greg to follow him. No real hello, now how are you’s, thank you for coming or even the offer of a drink. Very much like Sherlock and a naked Sherlock at that.  If it weren’t for the white sheet surrounding his body and trailing after him like a white wedding gown Lestrade would be scarred for life.  Or at least that was the common phrase.

“Oh really,” he called as he made a way to follow the man. His feet sort of nosily squelched in his shoes and Sherlock’s merely padded against the floor. “Well this is your flat, I suppose.”

“Mhm,” Sherlock mumbled. He was standing in the study now and looking over the papers in his hands. He was just getting straight to it. Lestrade was staring at his knuckles. His fingers were long and bone like and the structure was fascinating. “Besides it’s after seven. If I’m not out on a case I can wander around the flat however I like.”

That was true. Greg merely shrugged. “About this case then, solved it yet?” he asked as if he half expected him to. He did, really, since Sherlock was usually quick about these things. Perhaps he didn’t need him after all and he could go home and not think about what Sherlock looked like under that bed sheet. He only wondered because he was _right there_ and well, he was obviously naked. Lestrade looked away.

“Hmm, no,” Sherlock mumbled. “The victim, I figured out her name but that’s not relevant,” he said with a wave of the hand. “The victim in fact had an older lover. She seduced him in her own home. Her parents home, might I add, she was only sixteen,” he continued. “They were out at a party. He came over and things got heated between them but really it was only a matter of time. He killed her afterwards.”

“Ah,” Lestrade replied, nodding. “What was her name?”  

“Gemma Slack,” Sherlock replied. “The question is, why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why. Why would she deliberately seduce him even though she knew the man had been in jail before?”

Lestrade’s eyes widened. “Oh. Well. F-forgiveness?” he guessed. “How do you know he’s been in jail?”

“Assumption.”

“Ah.”

Lestrade folded his arms again and walked around the table, his boots knocking against the floor. They were still wet and uncomfortable though but he could deal with it. He wondered how his hair looked at this point but didn’t touch it.

“There is a reason I’ve brought you here, Lestrade,” Sherlock mentioned. He was looking at his desk, some of his hair falling over his face and eyes. “It’s up to you whether you cooperate.”

“Oh?” Lestrade asked. He looked up. For a split second he thought Sherlock looked tense but then he relaxed. He pulled his sheet around him tighter though and raised his head to eye Lestrade. He sort of side stepped out from behind the desk and Greg could only watch, confused. 

“Yes. I’ll start with the obvious,” Sherlock began before he walked forward completely and pressed a chaste kiss to Lestrade’s lips. The man back stepped back and out the kiss before it could really finish and stared at Sherlock with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He immediately closed it. He looked angry and Sherlock merely watched him with beady eyes, waiting for his real response once his thought process was back to normal.

“What was that?” Lestrade asked.

“A kiss, Lestrade, that was a kiss,” Sherlock told him. “And I’d like to give you another if you’d let me.”

“Of course I won’t let you!” Lestrade boomed before he made his way towards the doorway. This was wrong and weird and what? What was this? Why had Sherlock kissed him? Oh please.

“I just want to see, I _need_ to see,” Sherlock tried to explain as he followed Lestrade through the flat and back into the kitchen. The man had picked up his soaking wet jacket and the cold moisture had seeped onto his fingers as he began to pull it on. He wasn’t looking at Sherlock. Possibly he was overreacting but he didn’t know what to do.

“Need to see _what,_ exactly?” Greg asked as he stared at him. His action seemed to surprise Sherlock somehow. As he stared at him he licked his lips. Sherlock had kissed him and the action itself was a show of affection. Lestrade realised he had stopped putting on his coat. “Do you fancy me?”

“Kissing someone does usually mean that, yes,” Sherlock replied. Lestrade’s shoulders slumped. “I wish to see what it is like to be with an older person. A man, preferably, considering this has a lot to do with the case.”

Sudden anger washed over Lestrade again. “If you think I’m going to get off with you for this damn case, Sherlock,” he began as he started putting his coat back on. The insides were damp. “You’ve got another thing coming—“

“Wait,” Sherlock snapped as he grabbed onto his arm. “I said it has a lot to do with the case. I feel right now would be the best time to express that I wish to experience this with you.”

“You’re married to your work are you not?” Lestrade whined. He sounded like a baby.

“You are part of my work.”

“I take offense to that.”

“How so?”

Lestrade huffed. “Just because I am part of your work doesn’t mean I’m going to automatically think it’s okay for you to shag me, especially when it’s based on this case of yours,” he expressed with a wave of the hand.

“It doesn’t have to be shagging. It could be casual foreplay.”

“Casual fore—do I get a say in this?”

“Of course.”

Lestrade stared at him. This wasn’t the first time a man had asked him for sex – and a lot more, really, in terms of a relationship and romantic attachments – but Greg wasn’t really sure he wanted to do this. On the one hand this was Sherlock Holmes and he could boast he shagged the detective unlike everyone else but that wouldn’t be fair in terms of Sherlock’s own possible feeling towards it. Of course he’d show off to a few people though, including John. Or maybe not John. Definitely not John – he wouldn’t let him live it down. In reality John would never mention it but Lestrade had his worries. On the other Sherlock was primarily doing this for a case. For research. It made him sick. He needed to clear this up though, because he hadn’t left yet.

“So wait, you do actually fancy me?”

“Yes.”

“You could be lying, you know.”

“I’m not.”

“And it’s not _just_ to do with your case?”

“Not completely.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually considering this.”

“I hope you do.”

“Right then.”

Greg let out a little sigh. After an awkward moment he placed his jacket back over the chair and stepped forward and pressed a kiss Sherlock’s lips. It was an odd angle and neither of them felt used to it. Greg wasn’t used to kissing Sherlock – or a man, really, but he had in the past and enjoyed it – and Sherlock because he didn’t usually spend his time kissing people. Greg used to have a wife before she left him so he wasn’t really used to the male anatomy of another person. The kiss was hot and slightly sloppy as they kissed and soon enough Sherlock’s hands were on Greg’s shoulders before he could even think. Greg was insanely aware that Sherlock was _naked_ underneath that sheet. Or so he thought, he could be wearing pants? He doubted it.

“Has this always been a fascination of yours, Sherlock?” he asked roughly against his lips. Somehow the kiss had become more heated and slippery tongues became involved. Greg knew he could have fun with this. He needn’t worry anymore because he’d chosen to do it and he was bloody well going to enjoy it. “Because I’m an older man?”

“Mmm, clearly,” Sherlock said against his lips before he kissed him again. He liked the heat and finally being able to kiss Lestrade. It wasn’t something he couldn’t live without but he did enjoy it while it was happening. Greg’s eyes opened slightly in response to Sherlock’s little expression of desire and he noticed how close their faces were. Sherlock’s eyelashes were long and his eyes were closed. He breathed in the scent of him through his nose before he wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s back and pulled him to him. Bad idea. Once again he realised he was wearing that ruddy sheet and he might as well pulled the detective to him stark naked.

“Are you seriously naked under there?”

“Yep.”

“And this is your way of seducing me?” he added with a little laugh.

“It seems to have worked so far,” Sherlock replied and Lestrade could hear the smirk lingering on his words.

“Huh, well,” he remarked.

Greg didn’t really know what to do at this point. They were kissing, yes, but Sherlock was already naked and that sort of took the fun out of things because he couldn’t undress him. Sherlock’s mouth left his and he pushed him against the counter and Greg could feel the cool metal pushing into his back where his shirt had ridden up. Sherlock began to press nibbling kisses at the skin of his neck and he angled his head, his hand clasping around the detectives strong shoulder blade. He opened his eyes.

“You better not give me a love bite.”

“I’m not,” Sherlock said before he playfully bit down a bit harder. “Promise.”

“Stop it,” Greg laughed with a little grin. “I’m serious, stop it,” he laughed as he doubled over. Sherlock chuckled and it was a lovely chuckle. He hadn’t heard Sherlock sound so warm in years. He felt a hand reach up and undo the top button of his shirt and then a mouth press another kiss to his skin, this time directly onto his collar bone.

“If this me being older thing is a kink of yours, why aren’t I in control?”

“Because I’m naked and you’re not.”

“I could do a strip tease for you.”

“Please don’t.”

Lestrade chuckled again. His hand moved in little circles on Sherlock’s back. He could feel the bumps of his spine poking out through the material of the sheet and he ran his fingers down them. He actually quite liked that little feature even though it should be a bit concerning.

More kisses were led down his skin as his buttons were undone by one. In all honesty Lestrade was comfortable with his body – even though he did have a little chub – but he wondered what Sherlock could possibly deduce just by looking at his pink flesh alone. It was a worrying thought but he didn’t really have anything to hide. It was nice when Sherlock reached for his belt.

“Stop me whenever you want,” Sherlock muttered. His head was buried in Greg’s neck as the belt came undone with small clicking noises. Greg didn’t say anything and he took that as a mixture of a good and bad sign – good because it mean he wasn’t telling him to stop, and bad because he could be considering it – but Sherlock carried on. He could tell he had firmly reacted to the kisses just by using his fingers alone.

“Mmm.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Lestrade confirmed as he pushed his hips slightly into Sherlock’s hand. He was rubbing the back of his fingers up and down over the small bulge in Greg’s trousers.  “No, seriously, why am I not in control?”

“Shoosht,” Sherlock chastised. He hooked his thumb in the waistband of Greg’s trousers and pushed them down slightly to reveal the lines of his hips. He then pushed down his underwear and Lestrade’s half hard cock sprung out into view. It was sort of impressive already and the cool air in contrast to the warmth of his underwear hit him instantly.

“If I’m out, you should take that sheet off.”

“Mm,” Sherlock mumbled, disregarding him. To Greg’s surprise – even though he really shouldn’t be surprised at this point – Sherlock made a move to kneel down in front of him. He adjusted his sheet around himself again so it sat properly but even then it slid down his muscular shoulders and Greg couldn’t help but look and his mouth went dry. This was absurd though, Sherlock hadn’t even touched his flesh yet and he was already kneeling in front of him. He had to admit he liked the image though.

“Do you want my lips around you?” His hand was on him and stroking along his length and the edge of Sherlock’s knuckle idly brushed against the thicket of black pubic hair at the base. He was stroking the full length of his cock. Lestrade’s breathing increased and his hips shifted just a bit wider.

“Um, yes, yes I do, very much,” he breathed. Sherlock was looking up at him with his dark eyes before he glanced at his cock again and then his face. His thumb teased the head where all the nerve endings were and then back down his shaft and Lestrade pursed his lips. Sherlock was dragging this out on purpose. It was like Sherlock could see this though – as disturbing as that was – and then he wrapped his lips tightly around the head of Greg’s cock.

“Ohh, yes,” Greg moaned. This was good, very good, and Sherlock was applying just the right amount of tongue pressure to the head. He then began to move his mouth over the glands of his cock and Lestrade could feel how warm and wet his mouth was. That same hot and glorious tongue ran all the way along his shaft and he breathed in sharply at the sensation of it. This was gold. Sherlock’s eyes were shut now and he began to suck him, up and down, up and down, and then he licked him all over. Greg was shuddering and his toes were curled.

“Oh wow,” he groaned in pleasure and he almost bucked his hips forward. He couldn’t though. He looked down at Sherlock again and this time he was looking up at him with his mouth securely around his cock and the sight was utterly delicious. The sound of saliva rubbing over Lestrade’s skin and his little sighs filled the room for a while longer before Sherlock released him and he was half disappointed and half glad for it because he was surely going to come right there if he hadn’t said anything. His cock stood up now; it was red and long and Sherlock’s lips matched the colour.

“Sherlock,” he breathed and as if on cue Sherlock stood and kissed him again. Greg could almost taste himself on his lips. Sherlock’s sheet had slipped down and was revealing his muscular chest and it pressed against Lestrade’s. The sheet had now pooled around Sherlock’s feet (but was still covering his hips), and he pressed himself to Greg further, causing the man to gasp as his erection rubbed against Greg’s naked hip.

“Come to my bedroom. I have condoms and lubricant, you’re topping,” Sherlock uttered into his ear.

“You’re prepared,” Lestrade muttered back. He thought it was slightly creepy though.

“Mmm, I did say I was planning on seducing you.”

“That you did,” Lestrade chuckled. “What happened to foreplay? Not that I’m complaining.”

Lestrade opted to pushing his cock back into his trousers and following Sherlock to his bedroom where he had a double bed it seemed. His shirt was still open and he pulled it off easily and dropped it onto the end of Sherlock’s bed since he didn’t really want it on the floor. He felt a bit exposed though at this point and a light blush crept up on his cheeks even though he could see the first top half of Sherlock’s body. It then occurred to him he was a lot more muscular than he had imagined. It was odd because his suits always gave the impression he was a lot leaner.

“Come on, clothes off,” Sherlock encouraged. The corners of Lestrade’s mouth twitched and if he had been a teenager he would have pulled his trousers straight down and forgot about his shoes. He pulled them off along with his socks - and what a relief that was - and then everything else until he was naked in front of Sherlock. He looked up and saw Sherlock looking at him but he had a kind smile on his face. It was playful. A bit mischievous too and then not so gracefully he dropped his sheet.

Lestrade finally got a good look at him. His cock was long and hard and his own twitched at the sight. It was red too and the head was profound and he wanted to touch him. He instinctively moved forward and pulled Sherlock into yet another kiss and this time it was a bit more controlled. Lestrade wanted to be in control now and he figured he had permission since Sherlock had told him he was the one topping. Instantly, he took the man in his hand.

The gasp from Sherlock was enough to make him keep going. He felt lovely and hard in his hand and then he began to use his first two fingers to stroke him teasingly. Sherlock practically shoved himself into Lestrade’s hand and Lestrade couldn’t help but stand over the sheet at their feet. He almost tripped.

“Come to the bed,” he instructed, taking hold of the detective’s hand now and leading him there. The bed creaked slightly when he sat down on it and then Sherlock was on top of him. Oh no, he wasn’t having that. He rolled them over and his legs wrapped up with the detectives, their cock’s brushing against each other deliciously.

“You’re going to do what daddy says,” Lestrade uttered into his ear. Sherlock’s eyes widened.

“My daddy?” he asked. He had his hands around Greg’s back and was moving their hips together. Oh yes, that felt good, his long hard cock gliding and thrusting with the older man’s.

“Yes, your daddy,” Greg confirmed. He also moved in unison with Sherlock and their bodies had become very hot and he could feel sweat forming on the back of his neck and into his already damp hair. “Do you want me to fuck you, Sherlock?”

“Yes, Lestrade, you know I want you to,” Sherlock strained as he arched his back into him. Lestrade pressed a few bites to his skin and he could hear little moans escaping the detective’s lips. Lestrade didn’t realise he wanted this badly until now.

“Where is the stuff?”

“In the bedside drawer.”

 He retrieved it and left the condom packet on the top of the drawer before he opened the lube. Sherlock had shimmied himself to sit on his elbows with his legs slightly far apart. He wasn’t really that shy. Lestrade looked him over as he slicked his fingers with the lube and then he moved to place his free hand on Sherlock’s knee, his mouth coming up to lock with his as he prodded the entrance of Sherlock’s ass with his finger. Sherlock lifted himself and spread his legs a little further apart and Lestrade warned him before he began to slowly push into him and the noises of their lips smacking together sort of drowned out Sherlock’s small moan. It turned into a little cry though when Lestrade entered another knuckle. He was warm and oh so tight but not too tight and Lestrade could already imagine himself pounding into Sherlock. He started pushing in and out with his front two fingers and Sherlock was writhing underneath him. It was obvious he wanted more and he expanded his hole a little bit before attempting to enter another third knuckle. It only went in half way before Sherlock gasped.

“Lestrade,” he breathed, clearly indicating he wanted him now.

“Alright,” Lestrade replied before he kissed his jaw. He hadn’t seen this side of Sherlock before – such as him writhing and being needy – and he found he liked it to an extreme amount. It was different and Sherlock needed him and since it was something to do with affection his heart swelled. Maybe this was more than just sex, considering Sherlock apparently liked him and he’d always had a fascination with the detective too. “Hold on.”

Lestrade tore open the condom and rolled latex over himself.  He felt Sherlock grasping at his hand and he smirked before he came up and took hold of Sherlock’s legs. He pressed a kiss to his left calf before Sherlock wrapped his leg around his back. Lestrade was being oddly gentle with the detective but he wasn’t getting a row for it as he expected he would so that was a plus. As a second thought he grabbed the lube again and slicked it over the condom because he wasn’t sure how often Sherlock had done this. He placed the cap back on with an audible clap and chucked it to the side again.

“You ready?”

“Yes,” Sherlock replied before he swallowed. Lestrade placed his hand on the underside of Sherlock’s right leg and spread him open further. He then took hold of himself and began to push the head of his cock to Sherlock’s entrance experimentally. When he heard a low hiss from the man underneath him he began to push in and his eyes continuously glanced up the detective to see his face. His cheeks were flushed and his dark curls were lightly sticking to his forehead. At the angle his body was at Sherlock could wrap his hand around Lestrade’s back and lower his other leg so they were as far apart as possible. This allowed Lestrade to push in further, and then slide out again, to push in another time and groan without realising as the pleasure soon began to build up inside of him from Sherlock’s tightness and warmth. Another hand came up and wrapped around his shoulders as he began thrusting slowly into Sherlock as they got used to it. Sherlock got continuously looser.

“Yes,” Sherlock moaned as he arched his back. “Yes, keep going, just like that,” he instructed as he began to try and move his hips down over Lestrade’s cock to fill him completely. Lestrade licked his lips and tasted the salty sweat that had begun to form on his upper lip as he began to move his hips faster. Soon enough he was snapping his hips and the tops of his thighs smacked the lower side of Sherlock’s repeatedly and created obscene sounds between them. He could smell the heat coming from Sherlock and could feel the pleasure beginning to form in his abdomen again and it pulsed in waves throughout his body.

“Oh yes, yes,” Sherlock began to moan louder as Lestrade promptly pounded into him. Lestrade moaned and cursed and his hand came up to scrunch into the curls of Sherlock’s damp hair.

“Mmm, Greg,” the younger man groaned and it sent Greg’s heart racing harder than ever. Sherlock hadn’t really used his real name before since he didn’t really learn of it until a few months ago. “I just knew you would be good at this. All this staring at your anatomy has paid off,” he said shakily with his eyes shut tight. “I always knew you’d have a big cock.”

“Much can be said for you,” Lestrade said back even though that was a bit of a lie. He hadn’t really thought of Sherlock’s sexual parts in that way at all but now he wondered why. He was fascinated with the man enough. “I finally get to fuck you.”

“Mmm yes you do!” Sherlock practically shouted. “Your big cock right into me, Greg, yes, just like that,” he moaned as he shifted underneath him. Lestrade was close but he wanted Sherlock to come first. He then noticed the man was already stroking himself at an alarming rate like he had the same idea. He was gripping onto the crook of Sherlock’s leg and he looked down to Sherlock’s hand rapidly moving over his own cock and the pre cum leaking from the tip and he thrust harder and for a second the detective’s hand slowed down and his head fell back. He must have hit his prostate because Sherlock was moaning and Lestrade felt a sense of pride. He wasn’t used to the man’s body in such a way so he was glad to hit that spot on the very first try.

“Do that again,” Sherlock demanded and Greg pushed his hips in and more moans escaped Sherlock’s lips. Both of their insides were on fire but especially Sherlock’s, and a coil had begun to form in his belly as he practically pushed and moved his hips over Lestrade’s cock. He was loose now and Lestrade slipped in easily.

“Yes, Sherlock, c’mon,” he encouraged simply because he couldn’t take the intensity of it all anymore. He continued to snap his hips and slap against his skin and Sherlock’s back was arching until he moaned abruptly and hot, white semen started to spill all over his chest and skin. Lestrade watched while thrusting, transfixed, and then glanced up to the detective’s face where his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were tightly shut. His face seemed to relax after a moment as he rode out his orgasm and more cum leaked from the head.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he breathed. Sherlock seemed to go limp after a moment though, his limbs feeling weak and he looked up to Lestrade, his hand coming up to touch his face. It was such a rare (and odd) display of affection from Sherlock and Lestrade relished in it. “I want to see what your face looks like when you cum,” he told him, “right now.”

Lestrade was very much there already. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Sherlock’s mouth and then buried his head in the detective’s neck as he resumed his grip on his legs again. Sherlock’s hands came up around his back and he reminded him to look up when he was ready and Lestrade nodded as he pounded into Sherlock now, his heart racing and the familiar pressure forming in his balls. “Mmm, yes,” he moaned, “yes, yes, almost there.”

He could hear Sherlock breathing into his ear as their bodies shifted and then he couldn’t take it anymore as his hips moved to an agonising slow pace as he came, wanting this to last as long as possible. Sherlock could feel him pulsing inside of him and the pads of his fingers gripped onto the skin of his back as Lestrade moaned into his ear then bit down onto his skin. “You feel so good,” Lestrade moaned as he continued to slowly move his hips in and out, the warmth helping him along the way. He muffled something else against Sherlock’s neck as his orgasm lasted longer than what it usually did when he had sex and Sherlock helped him by muttering things into his ear he wasn’t really paying attention to. His breathing was shallow and he let himself lay down on Sherlock once he was done and the man underneath just held him there. It was probably something he wasn’t really going to experience again unless they continued doing this – and was he already making plans? – so he made sure to savour it.

“Sherlock...” he breathed before he laughed a little. “Sherlock.”

“Mmm,” Sherlock hummed with a little smile.

Lestrade didn’t know what to say. He was smiling though and his back was slick with sweat. “I’m coming out now,” he warned Sherlock after a little while before he gripped the base of the condom and pulled out of the younger man. Sherlock’s legs closed around him slightly as his muscles relaxed and Lestrade pulled away so he could dispose of the condom in the waste paper basket next to Sherlock’s bed. He lay down on his elbow next to Sherlock and saw the man was sprawled out with his hands above his head. He didn’t talk for a while.

“So, has this helped with your little mystery at all?” Lestrade asked.

“What mystery?”

“The one where you wanted to see what it would be like to be with an older man.”

“Oh yes it has. Very much so. I’ve conducted someone with experience is necessary such as yourself,” he commented. Lestrade smirked.

“Good.”

Sherlock nodded before he idly rolled over, his eyes coming up to meet Greg’s. His eyes were lovely and he looked slightly tired and worn out.

“When will John be home?”

“Soon, soon. I imagine his date didn’t go very well considering I heard my phone beep around ten minutes ago.”

Greg froze. “You did?”

“Yep. I imagine he’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

The older man relaxed a little. That would definitely give him enough time to gather his clothes and be out of the flat before John arrived. He sighed. “Are we going to do this again?”

“Perhaps. Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Mm. I’ll think about it.”

Lestrade couldn’t help but smirk again. He sort of knew the answer already and he sat up and Sherlock followed suit. “I’m glad you cooperated.”

“Me too.”

There was a moment of silence between them before they leaned towards each other in unison and kissed. It was nice and gentle but quick all the same. Lestrade didn’t take long in getting dressed and Sherlock simply lay back on the bed.

“Isn’t John going to wonder why you’re walking around in a sheet?” Greg asked since he guessed the detective wasn’t going to get dressed. He could see there was still semen over his belly and torso and he figured Sherlock would probably clean that up beforehand. Or so he hoped so.

“He’s used to it,” Sherlock replied and Greg scoffed. He didn’t really like putting back on his cold and damp socks and then his boots but he had to if he was going to get anywhere. He was sitting on the bed as he did so and Sherlock sat up again and went to quickly grab underwear from the drawer and a pair of trousers he had laying over a chair.

“Chickened out?”

“No, it’s cold,” Sherlock replied but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. When he led the man to the door Lestrade actually checked Mrs. Hudson wasn’t around because really, what would it look like if she saw them with Sherlock half naked and his semen all over his chest?  Sherlock had his hand on his back and they said their goodbyes with the promise of a text. Typical, really, but Lestrade hoped he would get one.

It had stopped raining outside now and the pavement had dried up a little. He felt happy and relaxed and hoped this could potentially develop into something more than just casual hook-ups because they just so happened to have feelings for one another, and he found it nice. He just remembered not to get his hopes up.


End file.
